


Any Place I Needed to Go

by Annie D (scaramouche)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Reality, Angst, Comment Fic, Episode Related, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-13
Updated: 2010-04-13
Packaged: 2017-10-09 05:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/83765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scaramouche/pseuds/Annie%20D
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of deciding to kill John and Mary in "The Song Remains the Same", Anna winds up a few years early.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Any Place I Needed to Go

**Author's Note:**

> Written for spn_bitesized @ dreamwidth.

When Anna finally escapes from Zachariah’s clutches, the feeling is not dissimilar to the last time she’d fled the place that is her former home. There is elation, relief, satisfaction, and an all-encompassing terror of having to think about what to do next.

There are no choices in Heaven, so to leave it is to open oneself to the infinite possibilities of maybe.

Anna’s newest choice is defined by this:

The side of Heaven is the side of the angels. Her former brethren are powerful, fierce, unforgiving, selfish, and uncaring of the fate of humanity.

The side of Earth is the side of humans. Though their brave are many, their frontline champions are only the Winchester brothers, who may be passionate and resilient, but are otherwise powerless before the might of Heaven.

Then there is Anna, who has been born twice, once in Heaven and once on Earth. She is the only angel who doesn’t need a vessel because she has a _body_; her human flesh and bone as much as part of her identity as the grace that now powers her wings in flight.

She is the wild card that Heaven could never have predicted and Earth could never have known to ask for.

The angels could have wiped her memories clean, back while they attempted to burn the stubbornness out of her, but they didn’t. She still has the memories of her eons as a true angel, and now one memory stands out – of her standing with her garrison, Zachariah muttering something about morale, Uriel and Castiel standing quietly at her shoulder as they watched a compatriot receive holy orders from Michael himself.

As soon as this idea settles, Anna murmurs apologies to Sam and Dean, and then hurls herself backward.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Pain and asphalt greet her when she arrives.

She smiles, the taste of copper in her mouth evidence of her success.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna has known of the Campbells and Winchesters long before those names even settled into their current configurations. Over the centuries she has listened to reports of both lines converging and drawing closer until at last there came into the world one Mary Campbell and one John Winchester.

Still, it is one thing to know of Mary Campbell, and another to see her in person.

Anna is hidden behind the corner of a drugstore, watching as Mary talks to a tall man. Mary’s expression is kind and sympathetic, but there is an alertness in her eyes that suggests that she is paying attention to more than what is just being said. The man dismisses her with a condescending smile, so he doesn’t see the way Mary’s face goes hard and thoughtful, eyes sliding sideways with quiet satisfaction.

This is a hunter at work.

One day the Gospels will tell the story of Mary, but the only lines in the Book will be of how she’d birthed Dean and Sam, and then died to inspire John. This young, vibrant hunter, who is now unfolding a map and scanning it critically, will one day be a footnote in history.

Anna may not believe in her Father anymore, but she knows He exists somewhere, so she curses Him.

Mary looks up sharply, hunter’s senses alerting her to something amiss, so Anna ducks into the shadows.

It’s the right day, but not the right time.

She waits, and watches.

 

 

* * *

 

 

The moment arrives as Mary is walking into an abandoned farm yard.

Anna almost laughs at the ludicrousness of it, that such a momentous event would happen while Mary is tracking down a pair of ghosts. The ghosts themselves are not overtly dangerous, but one would think that the angels would’ve chosen a more story-appropriate setting, such as when Mary’s asleep, or sitting on a windowsill gazing longingly at the sky.

But no, it has to happen in the middle of the hunt.

Mary is shooting rock salt, the gun a familiar weight in her hands she spins and aims. The ghosts – the children of the farmer, both died tragically in an accident – flicker in and out, but neither one is the being that Anna is here for.

While Mary stalks off, Anna follows the faint whisper of the supernatural creature that is circling the yard, trying to find a suitable place to settle.

The right Enochian words are spoken, and the being materializes.

“Oh, hello,” it says, surprised to see her. “I thought you guys didn’t—”

Anna is on it in an instant, arms around its throat and shoving it to the ground. It squeals and struggles as Anna holds it down, though it is more confused than scared.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Anna says, wrapping one hand around its temple firmly. “There’s been a change of orders.”

“What? You can’t—”

Anna knows that this may be the last important thing she’ll ever get to do with what remains of her angelic powers. She is still sure that this’ll be worth it, and that conviction is what has her pushing mental fingers deep into the Cherub’s mind. She can feel the Cherub fight the invasion, but it is bracing itself for the removal of memories, not the planting of a fake one.

A careful press of fingers, and the Cherub is unconscious.

It is done.

The Cherub will return with reports of its success, and Heaven will turn its eye elsewhere for now. Anna knows it won’t last forever, and that eventually someone will realize that things aren’t going according to schedule, but those extra few years may be enough to throw everything off-whack. They certainly won’t expect the pawns to start marching to their own rules.

Anna hopes Sam and Dean, wherever they are, can forgive her for this. She certainly has no one else to ask forgiveness from.

She starts to rise, but freezes at the feel of cool of metal to the side of her head.

“What are you?” Mary asks.

Anna is amazed. She hadn’t even heard any footsteps approaching. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

The gun clicks softly. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

Anna slowly turns, gaze sliding up over the barrel of the gun to where Mary is watching – no, _assessing_ –her. She wonders what kind of threat she looks like in Mary’s eyes.

“You wouldn’t believe me,” Anna says.

Mary’s eyebrows shift, as if to say: _try me_.

“Let me show you.” She shifts a little, just enough to arch her back.

Mary does not gasp at the brief flashes of light, but her eyes are wide as they trail the length of the shadows of Anna’s wings.

“There is a name for what I used to be,” Anna says. “But not for what I am.”

Mary would not be a good hunter if she lowered her gun now, so she doesn’t. Her expression is curious, though, her smile having the faintest touch of wonder. “Where do you come from?”

Anna uncurls a finger to point upwards.

“Where are you going?” Mary’s smile disappears at whatever she sees on Anna’s face.

Anna turns away quickly. “I just came to…” The Cherub is gone, faded back into the other realm, but Anna isn’t worried, for when she looks back at Mary, she has enough of her other eyesight to make sure there are no marks on the hunter’s heart.

That is a path Mary can now choose for herself.

“Come on,” Mary says suddenly. She doesn’t completely lower her gun, but there are no longer crosshairs in her eyes. “Unless you have somewhere else to be?”

Anna smiles slowly, warmth suffusing her limbs. She has no home that wants her, no purpose to exist other than to give Heaven the headache it deserves, but Mary’s raised eyebrow is the invitation she could never have predicted.

“No, I have nowhere else to be.”


End file.
